(Really) Lost

My quiet obsession with Lost is now somewhat disappointed after the two-hour Finale of Season 5. So next year is the last season, but I don’t really get this season at all. In the past, I think there was a sense of narrative and character development, this year it was sort of all over the place, therefore the end of it was supposed to explain things, I think, or at the very list hint at some possible solutions and all I got was a bunch of new characters (with Jacob being played by a deadbeat dad from Dexter) and no real story. I mean I know they are trying to build up suspense and all, but being suspenseful all the time is tiring. I think in the past seasons they were able to build up suspense and then at least answer some of the questions in the end, this time I’m not sure what to expect which is good, but I wonder if I will care enough to think about it. In any case, I’m really lost with Lost and I don’t think it’s my problem – do a better show next year!

Man-Child Reality Television: A Perverse Form of Entertainment

loser-brett.jpgThose of you that came across our humble blog hoping for (1) a creepy pro-NAMBLA tirade and/or (2) a review of Herbie Hancock’s excellent album Man-Child will be very disappointed. Readers, over the weekend I found myself hung over and in desperate need of mindless drivel on TV. Of course, anyone in search of mindless drivel should turn on cable television, so naturally I found myself watching several reality shows on VH1, all of which had, as a common denominator, two things: (1) fourth tier “celebrity” men acting like (2) man-children.

First, I witnessed Rock of Love with late 1980s tight leather pants, possible drag queen, hair themed band Poison, featuring Brett Michaels. Poor Brett, he just wants to find a woman who can “dig” him for who he is. Come on, he wants nothing but a good time. So, in order to find such a “score” he gets a bunch of women to live in a house together with him and humiliate themselves in a variety of ways, whether working as a team to put together a motorcycle for Brett or posing in various positions for Brett while he takes snapshots in an effort to satisfy his adolescent fantasies. To what ends, you may ask? Well, competing for different prizes, such as “one on one” time with Brett, either on a date, or on alone in his room for a conjugal visit it would seem. At the end of the show, Brett pathetically hands out “back stage passes” via his hulking bodyguard and asks, “Will you accept this backstage pass and continue to rock my world?” Ack. Continue reading